


Belt

by gyldenstern



Category: Last Podcast on The Left (Podcast) RPF
Genre: Belts, Established Relationship, M/M, Masochism, Mild Daddy Kink, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:20:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23307457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gyldenstern/pseuds/gyldenstern
Summary: Ben gets a gift in the mail from a fan. Marcus benefits.
Relationships: Ben Kissel/Marcus Parks
Comments: 13
Kudos: 28





	Belt

**Author's Note:**

> The belt fight conversation on the livestream a while back got me feeling some kind of way. No edits/no proofreading we die like men

“Hi, sorry I’m late, post office was crazy,” said Travis as he walked into the studio with an armful of packages. “Looks like you both got a few things, do you want me to put them in the closet?” 

“Henry’s running late, bring ‘em over here,” Marcus chirped. Ben looked up from his phone. They were due to record any minute, but hey— It’s not like Henry could have predicted there’d be traffic in LA. 

“Marcus, here’s two, they’re addressed to everyone, Ben, you’ve got one for everyone, and one is just a special package just for you.” Travis handed the packages to the boys, and started setting the audio levels. Marcus started ripping his open, and Ben followed suit. 

“Oh neat, more jerky!” Marcus said, waving a bag around. “Looks like they made it themselves, too!” 

“Let’s hope it’s beef, and not human,” Ben said. Marcus laughed. 

“Someone sent us books,” Ben said. “This one is called… ‘Glensheen’s Daughter,’ and we also got, uh… ‘Where the Bodies Are Buried!’ Isn’t that fun?” 

“Ooh, lemme see those,” Marcus said, already chewing on the mystery jerky. Ben traded him. 

“Oh, this is good jerky,” Ben said, gnawing on a piece. “Definitely beef.” 

“Huh, I’ve never heard of this one before— you ever hear about a murder and string of arsons in northern Minnesota?” Marcus asked, flipping through Glensheen’s Daughter. 

“I think so? The name rings a bell,” Ben replied. He opened up a Snapple to wash the jerky down. Marcus hummed, and set the book down. He opened up his second package. Inside were t-shirts and two large bags of coffee beans. 

“Neat! Looks like this coffee is from a place called Red Buffalo. Here, I think this one is your shirt,” Marcus said, handing Ben a rolled up grey shirt. Ben was looking at the letter attached to his personal package, eyebrows knit tight. 

“What’s up?” Marcus asked, shaking the shirt again. Ben started, and grabbed the shirt. 

“Nothing, the letter just says,‘Hey, I run a leather goods business and after the most recent stream, I figured I could make a dream of yours come true. Use it wisely!’ What the hell did I say in the last stream—“ Ben cut himself off as he opened the package proper, and felt a blush explode over his face. 

The fan had sent a black leather belt with a big-ass rhinestone buckle— and imprinted in the leather backwards was a repeating insignia that read, ‘Property of Ben Kissel.’ Backwards, presumably, so it could be read in the marks over whoever Ben spanked with it. Marcus snatched it out of his hands. 

“Holy shit, dude, this is quality,” he said. He raised it to his face to smell it. “Genuine leather, too,” 

“Jesus, Marcus!” Ben said, grabbing at the belt. Marcus held it out of his reach. 

“Oh man, this— did you read the buckle?” he said, voice pitching up with glee. He turned it around to show Travis. 

“Daddy. Huh. Gonna be hard to wear that with a tracksuit,” Travis mused, voice flat as always. 

“You’re joking, that does not say ‘Daddy,’” Ben said, now climbing over Marcus’s chair to get the belt back. 

“What says daddy?” Henry yelled through Skype. 

“OOH, Ben got a belt that says ‘daddy’ on it and he’s gonna give us all spankings,” Marcus whined in his ‘sexy baby’ voice, gleefully jangling the belt at Henry on the screen. Henry jumped right in. 

“Ooh, I’ve been so bad, daddy, awre you gonna punish me fow being waaate? Punish me harder, Daddy Kissew,” he moaned. Ben finally snatched the belt out of Marcus’s hands, and sat back down in his chair. 

“Eugh, don’t do that to me! A very talented  _ fan  _ made this  _ genuine leather  _ belt for me, and I think it’s extremely creative,” he huffed, adjusting his headset. 

“Spank me hawdeh, daddy, I’ve been such a naughty baby!” Henry continued. Marcus’ laughter filled the studio, and Ben could even see Travis shaking with restrained giggles from behind the soundboard. 

“Okay, that’s enough!” Ben yelled. 

“We better stop, Henry, daddy’s sooo mad,” Marcus said, face red with giggles. 

"I swear to god— I'm going to— Are we recording??" Ben asked Travis, who had begun to make the universal hand signal for 'rolling'. Travis nodded, face red from trying to not laugh. 

"Alright everyone, welcome to the extremely gross, inappropriate, and icky Last Podcast on the LEFT! I'm Ben Kissel— " 

"More like, Daddy Kissel— " Henry groaned. 

"Joined today by Marcus Parks—"

"Who's suuuuuch a naughty baby— " 

"And the disgusting Henry Zebrowski, who's head is about to go through a wall!" 

*****

"Do you wanna order Thai or pizza?" Ben asked, letting Marcus into his apartment. 

"There's leftovers from last night, let's just have that" Marcus said. He set his bookbag down and flopped on the couch. "I'm beat. Babe, will you grab me a beer?" 

"Beer and cold noodles? Coming right up." Ben said, rolling his eyes with a smile. 

Ben hummed to himself while he grabbed takeout boxes and a couple of Bud Lights. Marcus flipped the TV to a nature documentary. They had built a nice little routine over the last couple of months, one that made Ben feel more stable than he had in a long time. The smooching didn't hurt either. They had yet to tell anyone about the smooching, or the cuddling, or the choking-on-each-others-dicks, or the long nights sleeping side by side, but that made it almost better in Ben's eyes. So much of their lives were recorded and sent out to the masses, it felt sacred to have something that was just for them. 

"What are we watching tonight?" Ben asked, setting down the beer in front of Marcus. 

"Planet Earth: Deep Sea Creatures. And thank you," Marcus said, scooting over so Ben could sit on the couch next to him. Ben obliged, cracking the top of his beer. Marcus squirmed around so he could lay down with his head in Ben's lap. He started going to town on the Beef Lo Mein that they had double-ordered the night before. Ben carded his fingers through Marcus's hair. They settled into an easy silence, letting the documentary wash over them. 

"You have sauce on your face," Ben said, brushing a thumb against the corner of Marcus's mouth. Marcus responded by kissing it, then giving his thumb a little nip. 

"Thanks, baby," he said, smiling up at Ben. Ben bent over, giving Marcus a kiss on the mouth. 

"C'mon, cuddle up to me," Marcus said, scooting towards the edge of the couch. 

"We are cuddling," Ben said. "Your head is literally on top of my dick right now." 

Marcus responded by shaking his head around.

"Ow, hey, come on now," Ben said, squirming around under Marcus so he could spoon him in earnest. Marcus settled in, humming with contentment. They finished out the documentary out like that, lazy on the couch.

As the credits rolled, Marcus sat up and turned the TV off. 

"Ben? Can I ask you something, and have you not get mad at me?" he asked, turning around to face Ben on the couch. Ben's heart skipped a beat. 

"Depends on what you're asking, but go for it," he said, wrapping his arms around Marcus once more. 

"Listen, if what I'm going to suggest isn't something you actually want to do, just say so, and I'll never bring it up again, okay?" Marcus said. 

"Okay…" Ben said, eyebrows knitting together. 

"Cause, I really don't want you to take it the wrong way, or think that this is something I need, but it's actually been something I've been thinking about for a while now, and then— " 

"Marcus. Honey. Out with it," Ben said. 

"I want you to spank me," Marcus said, turning an impressive shade of red. "With the belt you got in the mail." 

Ben stared at Marcus, open mouthed. This was wildly new territory for the two of them. 

"You know, I wasn't actually mad at you earlier, that was more of a bit for the intro— " he stuttered. 

"No, I know!" Marcus said, still avoiding eye contact. "I just— Like I said, I've been thinking about how to bring this up, but sometimes I like being roughhoused, you know? And to be honest, I want the marks." 

Something in Ben's gut stirred at the last remark. 

"You wanna be marked as my property?" He said, voice low. 

"Yeah," Marcus sighed. "I wanna feel it for days afterwards." 

Ben slid his hands down Marcus's back, feeling how much smaller he was than him. He had considered their size difference before in a logical manner, but in this light it sent a shudder down his spine. 

"I don't want to hurt you," he said. "Not for real," 

"You won't," Marcus said, peppering a kiss behind Ben's ear. It tickled in just the right way. Marcus ground against Ben's thigh, clearly aroused. "C'mon, can we just try it? Your belt is in my bookbag." 

_ Fuck it,  _ thought Ben. He scooped Marcus up, easily tossing him over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. Marcus giggled as Ben grabbed the bookbag, walking them over to the bedroom. He dumped Marcus onto the bed. His pupils were blown wide, and he was grinning like a maniac. Ben climbed on top of him, straddling him and peppering him with kisses. 

“Have I been bad?” Marcus asked. 

“I don’t know, have you?” Ben asked back. 

“Tell me I’ve been bad,” Marcus pleaded. “Make me pay,” 

Ben growled, pinning Marcus’s hands above his head as he kissed from behind his ears down to his collarbones. Did he know what he was doing? Not particularly. Did it make him rock hard to see Marcus so turned on? Absolutely.

"Strip," Ben commanded, letting go of Marcus's hands so he could fumble in the bookbag. Sure enough, Marcus had coiled the belt up and stuffed it in the bottom. Marcus shimmied his shirt off, and Ben got up so Marcus could shuck his jeans off. He lay there, chest heaving in anticipation, in nothing but boxer briefs. 

"Roll over," said Ben, wrapping the belt buckle over his hand. Marcus obeyed, sliding down on the bed so he was knelt over it, hands gripping the sheets. The sight of it made Ben feel feral. 

"You look so goddamn good like that," Ben groaned, grabbing Marcus's ass. "Almost makes me want to forget how bad you've been."

Ben smacked his ass open-palmed, hard. The noise that Marcus made was not dignified.

"Thank you," he said. "Please, please more— " 

Ben cut him off with another smack. Marcus had a perfect ass for this, thick and muscled. 

"More?" Ben said, rubbing over the spot he just hit. 

"Yes, yes, god yes," Marcus whined. He stuck his ass out further, and Ben ripped his underwear down. There was already a handprint-shaped welt forming. He smacked him again. 

"God I love those noises you make," Ben spat. "Tell me what you want, baby," 

"Ben, please, please give me the belt," Marcus panted. Ben folded the belt in half. Whoever had made it had purposefully designed it so the "Property of Ben Kissel" would land squarely. He took a deep breath, and gave it a half swing. 

"Harder," groaned Marcus. Ben gave another swing, a little harder. 

"You think you can take more?" he asked. Marcus was shaking, beads of sweat forming in the small of his back. 

"God yes," he replied. "Ben, I want you to fucking hurt me." 

Ben went for it, winding up. The belt cracked over Marcus, and Marcus screamed. For a second, Ben panicked, thinking he had gone too far. 

"Oh my god, Marcus, are you okay?" he said, dropping the belt. 

Marcus turned his head towards Ben. There were tears in his eyes, but he wore a wild look. 

"Ben, I swear to Christ," he said, panting heavily. "If you don't hit me like that six more times, I'll fucking kill you," 

Ben felt all the blood in his head rush to his dick. Something about Marcus being so vulnerable, and yet so bossy at the same time, was better than any drug he had ever tried. He scrambled, grabbing the belt off the floor. 

"You're a freak," Ben said, doubling the belt up again once more. He wound up, striking Marcus again. Marcus let out a filthy moan. Ben imitated what he could remember from porn. 

"Count them for me," he told Marcus, grabbing Marcus's hands and pinning them behind his back. "If you don't count them, I'll— I'll add more." 

He hit Marcus again. 

"One," gasped Marcus, jerking.

"Good job," Ben said. He hit him twice, in succession. 

"Two, ah! Three!" Marcus said. Ben wished he had another hand to pull on his hair. Maybe a fourth hand so he could jack himself off watching Marcus be such a slut for the pain. 

"Good boy," Ben said, teasing Marcus with the belt, running it over the already-angry welts. "More?" 

"Yes please, please give me more," Marcus moaned. Ben loved hearing Marcus beg. He hit him again, aiming for the other cheek this time. 

"Fuck! Four!" Marcus yelled, jumping a little. 

"Language," Ben said. He hit him again, landing right in the exact same spot as the last one. Marcus screamed. 

"Five," he said, shaking. Ben dropped the belt again, and brushed his hand over the welts lightly. It made Marcus flinch, but Ben could also see him grind desperately into his bed. He was breathing hard, chest heaving. 

"Marcus, I want you to beg me for the last one, okay?" said Ben, crouching down so he could see his face better. Marcus turned towards Ben, mouth open. 

"Ben, please hit me, please? Please?" Marcus gasped. 

"More," Ben said. 

"Pleeeease?? Please hit me, I wanna feel your belt crack across my ass, mark me up daddy— " Marcus said. 

"What was that last part?" Ben asked. Marcus's face dropped, realizing his slip. 

"Fuck, I'm— fuck, I didn't mean to call you that," he stammered, panicking. 

"Say it again," said Ben. "Say it again, or I'll throw the belt out," 

"Mark me up daddy," Marcus whined, fully grinding into the bed now. "Mark me up, fucking hit me daddy— " 

Ben stood up, dizzy with arousal, and grabbed the belt once more. He swung, harder than he had before. He felt Marcus's skin break as the belt crashed down. Marcus buried his head in the mattress and howled, full body shuddering. Ben let go of Marcus's hands, and turned him over to kiss him deeply. Like instinct, Marcus wrapped himself around Ben in a stranglehold. He was crying, fully sobbing, but Ben held him tight, confused, horny, and so, so, so infatuated with his weird masochistic best friend. 

"Hey, hey, I got you, I got you," Ben said, trying to calm Marcus down. He awkwardly laid down on the bed, Marcus on top of him. He rubbed Marcus's back, trying to be soothing. 

"Fuck man," gasped Marcus, finally. "Fuck. That was incredible." 

"It was?" Ben asked, surprised. "I figured I went too far on the last one," 

"No," he said, wiping tears from his eyes. "That was fucking perfect. Just hold me for a little, okay?" 

"Of course," Ben said, gripping Marcus in a tighter bear hug. They lay like that together for a long while, until finally Marcus was able to slow his breathing to a normal rate. 

"That was amazing," he said. "How's my ass look?" 

Ben peered over his shoulder. Marcus was already bruising. The bleeding looked minor enough. He definitely had "Property of Ben Kissel" written all over in welts. 

"Welp, the standing desk was probably a good investment," Ben said lightly. Marcus laughed. 

"Yeah, I can already feel it." he said. "Did you like it? You're kind of a natural," 

"Yeah baby, I liked it," Ben said, staring lovingly at Marcus. "I liked all of it," 

"Thank you," he said. He looked relieved. 

"Of course," said Ben, turning off the lamp next to the bed. "We can talk more about what other roughhousing you want in the morning, but we gotta go to sleep now, honey." 

Marcus smiled. 

"Sure thing. Love you." 

"Love you too." 

**Author's Note:**

> If you can correctly guess the number and flavor(s) of White Claws I consumed while writing this, I'll write a dogtruth fic with your favorite kink.


End file.
